Tracey Parker is a gay cruising fanatic who travels around the world; after sharing with Squirt.org members the steamy bathhouse potential of Baños Finisterre, a local Mexico sauna popular with gay and bisexual men in Mexico City and Club-Sauna Spartacus, now Tracey takes us to Medllin’s hottest sauna for gay males looking to pump cock, Sauna Cruising, and tell us what to expect with this erotic adventure story between two handsome locals he met there.
Mateo and I walked up the staircase of Sauna Cruising in Medellin, Colombia. We each carried our motorcycle helmets in one hand while we held one strap of our backpacks on our opposite shoulder. Mateo wasn’t acting himself. Despite his perpetually cool outside appearance, I figured he was burning with desire on the inside, like me.
We were halfway up the stairs when an older man, at least twice our age, began to walk down the stairs. His skin was red, his hair was wet, his body grew out of his tight jeans, and his stomach hung over his waistline.
I was staring straight at him, admiring the way he carried himself. While not typically attractive, he had an arousing effect on me. As he walked down the stairs, I hung my motorcycle helmet on a strap of my backpack, and before I knew it, I reached out, grazed my hand over his package, and stared him in the eyes.
He smiled back; I could feel Mateo’s surprise, disapproval, and even jealousy.
The older man didn’t even stop walking, and neither did we. We both continued in different directions, but our eyes remained locked together.
He walked out the entrance and into the street without saying goodbye. I looked back at Mateo.
“What was that?” he asked me. His smile was different from usual. He was pretending this was funny to him. I had seen him do this before.
I shrugged my shoulders, and we continued to the front desk.
Mateo paid for both of us. We had a running tab: I paid for dinner last night, so it was Mateo’s turn for our entrance fee into the gay sauna.
Earlier, we had eaten a picada of carne asada and chorizo in Mateo’s local neighborhood. We were almost out of gas, which I would buy later tonight. He put the entradas on his card, and we continued into the locker room.
The locker room was beyond what I had ever imagined. A half dozen men stood naked. Some were getting dressed, and the rest were undressing. I gazed at their beautiful eyes, their pretty smiles, their surprisingly untrimmed bushes and their girthy, sweaty cocks. I licked my lips.
I felt protected by Mateo, but part of me wished he wasn’t here. Part of me wanted to surrender to all of this and beg each of them to fuck me and never stop.
I tried to tame my hormones by focusing on folding my clothes and organizing my bag before placing it in my locker. Mateo and I didn’t plan on undressing to the extent of these other men. I looked at Mateo but could tell he was just as overwhelmed by the sight of hot, naked men, just as I was.
As we ate earlier, our friends told us they were here, upstairs on the terraza; their presence was the primary motivator for Mateo and me to head to Sauna Cruising, yet I could feel that the horny side of me was taking over, creating more reasons to be here than just meeting friends. Beyond the sex and sweat, Sauna Cruising is the gay bathhouse where guys like us hang out in Medellin.
The stairs were right outside of the locker room. We climbed up to the top floor where the terraza was; as we climbed the four walls, I noticed the walls covered with sexual graffiti. There was no ceiling. The sun was setting behind the mountains, and the orange glow cast a relaxing haze onto the naked and half-naked males lounging in the open-air area.
Tropical plants stood between groups of chairs, and guys sat in duos, like us, or by themselves. As always, in our world, everybody was smoking marijuana out of long brown cigars. The smoke rose into the evening sky.
My fear seemed to follow the smoke, and, like usual, everything became funny. I started chuckling to myself. Mateo saw me; he knew exactly what was happening. He smiled at me. So much of our friendship happened in silence. It was bad taste for guys like us to talk too much.
We finished our marijuana and continued sitting down to enjoy the evening sky. The city lights on the mountainside were beginning to shine.
On the other side of the third floor was another staircase. There was a big television hanging on the wall above the stairs that showed porn. The guys on the screen looked just like us. But instead of smoking marihuana and riding motorcycles, these dudes were pounding each other.
In my newly-found buzz, my mind wandered; I wondered if their appearance resembling ours was foreshadowing my not-too-distant future, with many men holding my eager body down and abusing my mouth and hole; if the man on the TV’s screams of pleasure would soon be my own in the walls of Sauna Cruising. I thought again about the older man in the tight jeans I grabbed on the way in; I bit my lip slightly.
Men were climbing the stairs and devouring us with their eyes. Mateo never returned their gaze, and I stared at each of them. I was waiting for one of them to take me back to the dark room.
A bulky, plain-looking man passed me, and I followed him. He was dripping from the sauna downstairs.
I was still in my street clothes, but in the privacy of the darkness, I reached casually into my pants and adjusted my verga so that it stood straight up. My huge tip stuck out over the top of my jeans and clumsily and dangerously bumped up against my belt buckle.
I continued to unbuckle my belt, and my cock stayed in place behind my tight underwear.
The dim evening light peeked through the vent in the wall. I stood in the beam of light, and instantly, somebody knelt in front of me; they pulled down my pants and let my cock fall along their face.
I couldn’t believe how good it all felt, the marijuana, the darkness, the spotlight, the attention from everybody. I couldn’t see Mateo, but I knew he was nearby, watching.
The room smelled like damp, hairy men, like the man I touched coming down the stairs. I fantasized about him fucking me as someone else tickled my cock with his breadth. He was preparing to take it all in. I knew he couldn’t take it all in his mouth, but I wanted him to try.
Other men approached me and put their hands up underneath my shirt. I pulled it up, took one arm out, and let some other guy lick my hairy armpits.
They were descending upon me. I was allowing everything to go ahead and happen, only being sure to stay anchored with the wall behind me, guarding my hole for Mateo. I wanted to believe that, at least.
This dude was licking my armpits shamelessly. I stared at him; we were both smacked out of our minds. He was taking my hair in his mouth and slowly pulling on them with his lips until it fell free, then gobbling up another mouthful and doing it again.
He was ugly. I was pretty. I let him slurp up all my stink and watched what it did to him.
Then I heard a moan. Somebody’s round formless ass cheeks were working their way down my long, thick, rock-hard cock. It always hurt them to take the knob at first. Some took the rest smoothly, while others never made it past the tip.
This male was working his way down. I stood there and watched. I was drinking in the smells of his musty asshole. I wondered what would happen if I pushed him away; would the other men fall away, too, or would the erotic spell end? I began to laugh like I had been doing with Mateo earlier.
Somebody was smoking Marijuana, and the combination of smells was just perfect. It was so intense I could taste it in my mouth. I felt high and horny all over again.
A harsh chemical smell replaced the smell of weed. Somebody offered me some poppers, and I nodded yes.
They shook them up, opened them, and shoved them into my nose until my nostrils hurt slightly.
They hit hard as I breathed slowly, and suddenly, I noticed I was pulling myself out of the man’s hole as he moaned with gratitude. I penetrated myself back inside of him and began to tap his prostate carefully, yet without pause.
It sounded like he was crying; he liked it so much. Those touching me began to stand back and admire what they were watching. I fucked him for what seemed like forever. There was no longer any light in the room; everything was black, and there was no space between anybody. Suddenly it was me who was moaning, emptying myself out deep inside of him.
My clothes were soaked in the collective sweat of the entire dark room. My cock slipped out of the hole in front of me, and I stood alone in the dark. They began to touch me again bu,t I ran out to the terrace; with the last pump of cum from my now half-erect shaft, the spell was officially over. The fading magic forced me to retreat and return to where my friends were.
Mateo wasn’t there. I made my way down the crowded staircase and into the locker room. I shed my sweaty clothes and walked like a football player to the showers.
I let the water wash the sweat of a dozen men off my body and out of my mouth. I felt like somebody else for a moment. It was liberating. I felt like a champion. I was still catching my breath when all the soap had washed off my body and I began to feel naked and embarrassed in front of all the other men.
When I returned to the locker room, Mateo looked at my pile of sweaty clothes. He was holding my underwear in his hands and smelling it. When he saw that I had seen him, he began to laugh. I did, too. Suddenly, everything was funny again.
Discover more of Tracey Parker’s writing here.
